Would You Rather?
by Veniae
Summary: A story about love, change and a box of Mikado sticks. On a Sunday, Hermione and Draco happen to meet in the Hogwarts library. What better time for a game of "would you rather"? Post-Battle of Hogwarts; EWE; mostly fluff. One-shot. Disclaimer: This author is not responsible in case you develop diabetes after reading.


**A/N: This is my first attempt at a one-shot, the result of my hyperactive, romantic brain being exposed to too much Dramione fluff. Yet, writing the story was a blast and I'm excited about sharing it. So, without further ado: enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own ****_Harry Potter_**** or its characters.**

**x-x-x**

The Hogwarts library was easily one of the most impressive places in the castle. It was an enormous affair, tall as a cathedral and with the same air of stillness inside. Bookshelves, high as two-story buildings, split the space in smaller rectangular rooms, creating a labyrinthine atmosphere. There were multiple tables and chairs scattered between the shelves, but the proper reading room was situated at the far end of the library, behind the maze of shelves and aisles. It was hardly striking – a long wooden table that spanned from one wall to another, surrounded by simple wooden benches. Most of time, it was empty, as the students rarely opted to carry the heavy tomes around the place.

On this particular Sunday morning, however, there were two people there. They sat at the two opposite ends of the table, each of them engrossed in their own reading. Or so it seemed.

Hermione Granger groaned. The book in her hands, a history of the creation of Veritaserum, was just as dull as she'd feared. She found herself rereading a sentence for the third time, but when she reached the last word, she'd already forgotten the beginning. She tried again, one of her hands reaching over to take a chocolate-coated stick out of the Mikado box on the table next to her. Madam Pince would execute her on the spot if she saw her eating in the library, but right now that seemed more like salvation than punishment.

With a sigh, she laid the book on the table and propped her head on her palm. Her eyes drifted to her right, lingering on Draco Malfoy. Since he'd come to the reading room a couple of hours ago, she could feel his eyes on her. Yet, every time she looked towards him, he seemed focused on his book.

She nibbled at the tip of the Mikado stick. The chocolate goodness filled her mouth, making her smile. Just then, Malfoy chose to glance up at her.

Their eyes locked. Despite the blush that coloured her face at being caught staring, she arched an inquisitive eyebrow. A tiny smirk crept up the boy's face and he returned to his reading.

Hermione's brows furrowed.

After the fall of Voldemort more than nine months ago, she had decided to return to Hogwarts to finish her education. It pained her, although it came as no surprise, that none of her friends followed her example. Harry had been recruited as an Auror mere hours after the defeat of the Dark Lord and had dedicated all of his efforts to his new job since. Ginny pursued a career in Quidditch; she never forgot to send Hermione tickets to her matches. And Ron…

Hermione scowled. After their messy breakup at the end of the summer, she had no clue what her ex was up to – not that it mattered. They had spent a couple of months together; their romantic relationship had been as rocky as their friendship. The thrill had soon worn off and they had reverted to fighting. It all boiled down to a simple truth: they weren't made for each other, they didn't _click._

She shot Malfoy a glimpse again, but his silvery blond fringe hid his eyes from her.

When she'd returned to Hogwarts at the beginning of the school year, it hadn't taken her long to realise that all of her friends were now gone. Even in the Gryffindor Common Room, she was surrounded by strangers. Granted, strangers that looked up to her, even revered her – both for her academic success as well as her key role in the Battle of Hogwarts.

She had never felt so alone.

The single familiar face was one she'd rather not see – Draco Malfoy's. Even after he'd joined forces with the Order of the Phoenix, even after he supplied them with information that helped them turn the tables during the Second Wizarding War, she still bore a silly, childish grudge against him.

However, that grudge had felt familiar, even comfortable; it was suddenly the only thing that made her feel less out of place at Hogwarts. So, when he had taken the seat next to her in their Transfiguration class, she hadn't objected. In fact, she had let him sit next to her in every class they shared without protesting.

At first, the silence had been awkward. There seemed to be an invisible, yet thick wall separating them, and it made her so tense that she could hardly concentrate. As time went on, however, the initial uneasiness faded. She started noticing things about him – the way his hair fell in his eyes while he wrote, how he liked to lean back in his chair until he balanced on its hind legs when he was bored. At times, when another student said something silly, he chuckled under his breath, and then Hermione found it hard to conceal her own smile.

Once, she had run out of ink in Charms class. She had dug into her back in search of another bottle, desperate, and when she had found none, a string of curses had escaped her lips.

A smirk had spread on Malfoy's lips. She had been on the verge of snarling at him when he had slid his own ink bottle towards her. She'd reached over to take it and their hands had brushed. A tiny, tantalising bolt of static electricity had darted up her hand; she'd felt her cheeks start to burn.

"Thanks," she'd whispered in a small, breathy voice. With a nod, he'd pushed his parchment, so that she could copy the notes she'd missed.

Of course, together with the silence and the rare amicable moments came the occasional verbal fights. But even they had lost their sting – they still liked to exchange sardonic remarks, but now they were playful rather than insulting.

And thus, gradually, grudge grew into respect and reserved friendliness replaced the previous hostility.

Hermione was distracted from her musings when Malfoy looked at her again. He leaned back in his seat and brushed his hair back, a teasing smile lighting up his features. After this silent challenge, he returned to his book.

She rose to the bait immediately. Picking up her book, she casually scooted to the right, closer to the Slytherin boy, observing him out of the corner of her eye.

He didn't deign to look up, but his lips twitched up in an unmistakable smirk.

Hermione took another chocolate-coated stick and waited for him to make his move.

He didn't disappoint. Less than a minute had passed when he stood up and walked to the nearest shelf. He picked a book at random and returned to the table, where he sat at least a metre to the right of his previous position. Now there were no more than two metres separating them.

After a moment's thought, Hermione pretended to drop her bookmark. She slid under the table to retrieve the piece of cardboard and emerged considerably to the right of where she'd sat before. One metre.

His smirk broadening by a notch, Malfoy slid to his right until he was sitting directly across the table from her. Hermione struggled to keep her own face straight.

She reached for the Mikado box and turned it round in a wordless offer to the blonde.

Almost instantly, he grabbed a stick and poked it into his mouth. A soft crunching sound reached Hermione's ears and she found herself entranced by the slow movement of his jaw while he chewed. He seemed to notice, because his smirk widened even more.

With a huff, Hermione returned to her book.

She just started to suspect he wouldn't be any more talkative than he was in class when Malfoy drawled, "I hate to interrupt your studies, Granger, but you seem a bit distracted."

"Yeah?" she raised her brows without looking away from the book. "And why is that?"

"Mainly because you haven't turned a page for approximately thirty minutes," he said in a smug voice.

She sighed and gave up. "You're right," she admitted, and the book slid from her fingers without her noticing. "I've never read a more boring book in my life."

He gasped in feigned terror. "What? Hermione Granger, saying a book is boring? I cannot believe my ears!"

"Sod off, Malfoy." When she met his eyes, she knew the amusement in her own gave her away. "You didn't seem to enjoy your read much, either."

"Guilty as charged." He gave her a lopsided smile. "I needed a distraction."

The girl nodded her head. "Glad to be of service." Before she could change her mind, she offered: "Let's play a game!"

"Oh? What do you have in mind, Hermione?" He leaned across the wooden surface that separated them. The way he drawled out her name made her heart skip a beat and she felt a thrill run down her spine at his seductive voice.

She knew he was just pulling her leg, though, so she fought the blush. Draco Malfoy was a tease.

She hummed, trying to come up with a suitable game. "Have you played _Would you rather?" _she finally asked.

"No," he answered with a mildly baffled expression. "How's it played?"

"It's simple, really. We take turns asking each other questions that begin with "Would you rather…". Choosing neither or both options is against the rules. Shall we give it a go?"

He shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

"Okay, I'll start then." She bit her bottom lip, trying not to be fazed by the way his eyes immediately darted to it. Finally, she came up with a question that seemed simple enough. "Would you rather eat salty or sweet?"

"Sweet," he replied instantly, reaching over to take another Mikado stick. "I have a huge sweet tooth."

Hermione couldn't help but smile. That was a weakness she shared. "Your turn," she prompted.

He chewed and gulped down before talking, as was polite. "Hmm… Let's see. Would you rather be the Doctor's companion or Sherlock Holmes'?"

"The Doctor's," she said without thinking. "But then again, Benedict Cumberbatch is rather attracti—_wait,_ what the hell do you know about British TV shows?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes at her. "Muggle Studies," he said as if it were obvious, "I do my research."

"Oh, you're taking Muggle Studies?" Hermione raised a mocking brow.

"I'm in _your_ Muggle Studies class, Granger." He sounded a bit offended. "If you haven't noticed, I actually sit next to you."

She giggled. "Don't get your knickers in a bunch," she teased, but then she turned serious. "It's just a bit hard to wrap my mind around the idea." When she took in his hurt expression, her voice softened. "You've changed, Draco."

Using his first name was enough to divert him from his thoughts. The corners of his lips twitched up in a shadow of a smile when he inclined his head a bit. "I know."

Trying to lighten the atmosphere, Hermione pressed her hands together. She tried a question she knew would cheer him up. "Moving on! Would you rather snog Madam Pince or Professor Trelawney?"

To her satisfaction, Malfoy burst out laughing. "Tough question." His eyes darted in the general direction of Madam Pince's desk and he frowned. "Trelawney. She's not as shrivelled and wrinkled, at least."

"I hadn't realised you were into insects, Malfoy," Hermione noted dryly, which made him chuckle again.

"Wouldn't you like to know my preferences, Granger," he drawled with a saucy smile.

"Screw you," she spat back, fighting very hard to suppress the giggles that threatened to erupt from her lips.

"Only if you help me," he winked at her.

Her jaw dropped. Before she could give him a suitable reply, or any reply at all, he snickered at her. "Trying to catch some flies, are you?"

She shut her mouth with a loud clatter, all the while glaring daggers at him.

"Anyway," he said, unperturbed. "My turn, then. Would you rather snog Filch or Slughorn?"

"Eww," Hermione cried out, "Now that's just gross!"

"You give up?" He tilted his head with a mischievous smile.

"As if!" she crossed her arms in defiance. "Hmm… Filch's breath is simply disgusting, and that cloak of his seems like it hasn't been washed this century. While Slughorn… He has this look, like he enjoys groping girls when no one's looking… But then again… Filch's breath." She sighed deeply, nauseated by the thought. "Slughorn," she finally said, "Though I would probably need a thorough disinfection after that."

A brief lapse in the conversation had her imagining what it would feel like to make out with the Potions Professor, and she made a gagging noise. "Thank you for the mental images, Malfoy. Now I'm going to have nightmares until I die." She pouted.

He didn't say anything, even though the effort not to crack up was obvious in his clenched jaw. He waited for her next question.

Eventually, she offered, "Would you rather be a Muggle or a Squib?"

He hummed in consideration. His pale fingers ran through his hair they settled on the nape of his neck. "Muggle," he confessed.

"Really?" Hermione felt her brows shoot up again. She hadn't expected that. "But I thought…?"

"You said so too, Granger. I've changed." He gave her a wry smile.

She nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "When…?" She trailed off, but the look grazing his face told her he'd understood.

For a while, though, he didn't answer. Hermione gave him time to think, realising full well that it was a personal question.

"I think," he began a couple of minutes later, "it was last year, when the Snatchers caught you and brought you to the Manor." A shadow crossed his face. "The way my aunt… Bellatrix, the things she did to you…" His voice broke and he had to inhale deeply to be able to continue. "Then it hit me: I didn't want to be part of that world. I didn't want to hurt people, to make them suffer for something they were not responsible for."

Hermione licked her lips – her mouth had gone dry and her whole body had tensed with the memory of the night in Malfoy Manor.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, Hermione," he murmured, noticing her pained expression. He reached over the table to touch her, but then seemed to reconsider and took a Mikado stick instead. Once again, he gulped down before he continued. "And after all, aren't you the living proof that Muggle-born people are by no means inferior? Hell, as much as I studied my arse off, I could never quite match your grades… or anything else for that matter."

The sincerity of his voice stroked Hermione's ego as much as his words themselves. So many questions threatened to spill out of her mouth, but she kept herself in check. Her tactfulness warned her that pushing the topic further would be insensitive.

"Did it hurt?" she asked instead. "Betraying Voldemort, I mean."

"Like hell." He chuckled dryly. "Though not as much as actually joining him. That was by far the most horrible thing I've ever experienced."

Hermione glanced at his left arm, which rested on the table. The slender fingers were clenched in a tight fist.

Catching her gaze, he lifted the arm in a silent question. She gulped down and nodded.

His hand slid closer to her and he used his other one to carefully roll the sleeve up, as if applying more pressure would cause him pain.

It was hard to contain her gasp. The skin on the inside on his arm was pale, except for the contour of the Mark. The blurred outlines of the skull and the snake, like an ugly old tattoo, stained the skin. She noticed there were red blots around the outlines, infections that would never really heal.

She extended a tentative hand and gently brushed the skin on his wrist. Draco stiffened; his jaw clenched. "I'm sorry!" She immediately withdrew. "I didn't mean to—"

He shook his head, cutting her off. "It didn't hurt. I expected it to, but it did not. Touch me again."

She ran her fingertips across the soft skin. When she outlined the Dark Mark with a featherlike touch, goosebumps spread across his skin. "It feels nice," he assured her, answering the silent question in her eyes. "Your fingers are… kind of cold."

She smiled shyly while her hand continued to trace the patterns. "I'm sorry," she said, voice barely audible, "That you had to go through all this."

"Hermione…" His whole arm moved suddenly, and then he'd entwined his fingers with hers. "It's me who has to apologise."

By now, her heart was positively going to burst out of her chest. His fingers, gently stroking her knuckles, ignited a series of tiny fireworks through her body. Once again, she flushed furiously.

He didn't remain oblivious to her discomfort. The grave mood lightened when he smiled mischievously. He pulled her arm closer and pressed a light kiss on her knuckles. "Would you rather…" his breath tickled her skin, "Would you rather go out with me or not?"

With a voice calmer than she felt, she joked, "I'm not sure that's how this game is played."

"Just answer the question, Granger," he chided, a bit of his old self shining through.

"Go out with you." She didn't hesitate for a second.

A contented, genuinely happy smile spread on his face and for a moment, Hermione was stunned by how handsome he was. In an attempt to distract herself from his bottomless eyes, she reached over to take a chocolate stick. There was only one left in the box.

She smiled a bit and glanced at Draco. "Would you rather take the last Mikado stick or give it to me?"

"Why not both?"

He leaned across the table, never letting go of her hand, and took the snack. He brought it to her mouth, where he gently ran the chocolate-covered end over her lips.

Her smile widened as a shiver ran down her spine. His expression mirroring hers, he slid the stick into the slit of her mouth.

All of a sudden, Hermione felt more flirtatious than she had in a long time. She locked her gaze with his before teasingly running her tongue around the tip of the stick.

Much to her amusement (and not a small deal of excitement), his eyes widened. A gush of warmth surged through her body. She bit on the stick and he let go of its other end.

Ever so slowly, he bent his head down until he bit on the other end of the stick. He took a bite off the tip of and began working his way over with his teeth, staring her down.

Hermione didn't let his twinkling eyes distract her and began nibbling on her side of the stick.

Right before they met in the middle, she stopped. At his raised brow, she explained, "That's not fair! It's against the rules to choose both options."

"Screw the rules," he growled. His right hand slunk around her neck and he pulled her into a sweet, passionate kiss. His lips were hot against hers and their breaths mingled between them. At their own accord, her fingers buried in his hair, earning her a quiet moan against her lips. The sound reverberated through her body, making the hairs on her neck stand on end. Feeling dizzy with happiness, she let his kiss overwhelm her.

He tasted of peppermint and Mikado sticks.

**x-x-x**

**Thanks for reading! Loved it? Hated it? Let me know! Your thoughts and comments are most welcome!**


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